The Most Awesome Dream Ever
by One-Hundred Percent Juice
Summary: Alfred has the most awesome dream ever, and wants to tell Arthur all about it! Will he be able to get him to listen? Joker/USxUK Human names used.
1. Chapter 1

Ahh... back to writing again! Now that summer vacation's started, I've got a lot of time to type up the stories I've had in mind! :D Well, this is my first Hetalia fic. I hope I did alright! ^^; Joker forever~!

Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. If I did, Joker would be canon. :D The rightful owner of APH is Hidekaz Himaruya!

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**The Most Awesome Dream Ever**

"Hey, hey, hey Arthur!"

The annoyed blonde English gentleman looked up from his newspaper, albeit unwillingly, at the American nause that called his name.

"What do you want, you twit?" Arthur growled. He had been enjoying an exquisite cup of his favorite tea, reading a lovely article about the history of scones, when that nit just _had to_ disturb him…in his own house, too!

"I just had the most awesome dream ever!" the younger blonde jumped out of his chair and raised his hand up in the air, and pointed up at, well, nothing, really. He just liked doing that.

"Why do I care?" the Englishman sighed and turned his attention back to his newspaper. _'Really. That twit interrupts me just to tell me he had a nice dream? I didn't even know he had fallen asleep…'_

"Want me to tell ya about it, Artie? Do ya? Do ya?" Alfred laid his chin on the older man's shoulder, and put his lips dangerously close to his ear. "Do ya?" he shouted, uncaring of the damage he might cause to the other man's eardrum.

"Wah!" Arthur jumped, surprised by the loud voice in his poor ear, and yet flushed from the close contact. "Naff off, bugger! And no, I _do not _want to hear about your bird-brained dream!"

Alfred's eyes narrowed as he spotted a weakness. He smirked and, instead of removing his chin from the flushed gentleman's shoulder, got even closer by wrapping his arms around the Brit's shoulders, much to the latter's despair. Despair, in this case, meaning secret enjoyment.

"Are you _sure_, Artie?" the American whispered, totally confident his plan would work.

"F-f-fine! JUST GET OFF ME, YOU GIT!" Arthur looked down, trying to hide the exuberantly pink blush on his face. His breathing was a bit irregular, and he tried to calm it down without said "Git," noticing. He just wanted the bloody American _away from him._ He didn't know how much more… of that close physical contact he could take! He felt his heart start beating faster and faster, even though the American had only placed his arms around his shoulders. _'I… I'm going insane!' _ the Briton concluded. Never before had such a scarce amount of close contact been able to drive him _so_ _crazy. _

_...make him feel so warm. _

Arthur closed his eyes and bit on his lip. To his relief, the American promptly let go of him and sat back down in his seat. The sandy blonde sighed in relief as he felt the air hit his shoulders.

But he also felt a bit disappointed.

"S-so, this dream you spoke of, are you going to tell me about it or not?" Arthur continued to keep his head down, the warmth still prominent on his cheeks.

"Ah! Yes! Uh, well, you see, it was the… most awesome… dream ever!"

"You already told me that, you twit. What was it _about?_" Arthur sighed and finally looked up at the younger blonde, after he decided most of the redness had gone from his face. His eyes widened as he saw the American, with _his_ head down, with _his_ face flushed. _'W-what is going on here? He couldn't have… felt the same way I did… could he?' _

"Uh, well, actually, uh…" Alfred stammered. He reached up and readjusted Texas, who had started sliding off his face. "I…"

Arthur held his breath. He wasn't going to say it, was he? Those infamous words that the Brit had wanted to say for_ years? _The same words he had felt for the longest time? Those words that explained everything he had ever felt for the American man sitting before him? All the hidden emotions, daydreams, and secret thoughts? Oh, how many times he had wanted to say them, to let it all free!

"…_I love you."_

The Brit almost exploded as his secret object of love, for such a long time now, finally opened his lips, to murmur those three words the Englishman had wanted to say and hear from the depths of his heart.

"I…"

'_Say it! Say it, you twit!'_

"I forgot what my dream was about."

Arthur fell back in his chair in disappointment. He bit his tongue, denying his mouth its desire to shout, _"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" _He had been so _stupid, _so_ daft. _How had he ever suspected the American-hamburger-eating-I'm-the-hero-thinking-bloody-twit felt the same way he did? It was utter nonsense! The American would never love him back, and that was something the Englishman would have to learn how to deal with. He couldn't help but feel heartbroken, though. How could he not? He felt as if he had just been rejected, his feelings trampled on, while the American decided to wear soccer cleats for no good reason. Just to cause him even more pain, that was it! He had been so brutishly rejected…

Without even voicing his feelings.

The Briton let go of his bleeding tongue and finally allowed his mouth to speak.

"You bloody twit."

The Englishman sighed and got up from his seat. Without another word, he walked up to his room, leaving both newspaper and tea behind.

_He just didn't want Alfred to see him cry. _

Alfred looked up in surprise as he heard his friend get up and leave. He didn't say anything.

He was still too confused.

He was sure; it had totally been the most awesome dream ever! But… why couldn't he remember it? It had been so clear in his mind! It was… until… he just… when he held Arthur like that… why…

Why had he felt so warm? So…pleasant?

He had never felt like that before! He just put his arms around Artie and got so close to him like that because he knew it'd annoy him! So why was _he_ the one that felt so weird? He remembered how red his cheeks got, how fiery he felt all over! He didn't want to let go for some reason! But he did. He had to.

And that moment, that contact, it made everything in his head so blurry… but why? He had been close to Artie before! He had never felt those emotions that he felt at that moment, and that he was still feeling now!

Alfred felt his fingers twitch.

He just wanted Arthur back in his arms again.

The blonde felt a bit excited. What could this mean? Was it good? Was it something that could make him _even more_ awesome?

But he was scared.

What _could _this mean? Was it bad? Was it something that was oh, so _un-heroic?_

Alfred winced as his fingers twitched again.

He just wanted to feel the Brit's warmth.

He wanted to touch his hair, too… it looked so soft…

And that accent of his… it was kind of cute.

'_Dammit!' _the American cursed internally. He was so _confused. _And a hero must never be confused!

But, worst of all…

He completely forgot "The Most Awesome Dream Ever."

Alfred sighed and laid his head against the back of the cozy chair.

He needed a burger.

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Please review? Anonymous reviews are on, by the way! But please don't spam or anything! All reviews are appreciated!

By the way, in case you didn't know, Alfred's glasses represent Texas! :D


	2. Chapter 2

Yo~! So, I actually decided to continue this. :D Yay! Thanks goes out to all the reviewers~! :D

Well, sorry this one's a bit shorter. I had a bit at writer's block at first. Anyway, I actually finished the second chapter~! :D I don't know how long this is going to be, but it's most likely it'll end in one or two chapters. :D We'll see!

Desclaimer: I don't own APH. (But it would be so awesome if I did. :D)

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Alfred heard a low grumbling come from his empty stomach.

Okay, so now he _really_ needed a burger!

He lifted his head and got up from his seat. He walked up to the staircases Arthur had gone up a little while ago. Honestly, Alfred did want to see him, but he didn't know what would happen if he did. Would he get those same feelings again? Or would Artie just call him a twit and kick him out of his house? Not taking the risk, Alfred decided to stay downstairs as he said goodbye to his former mentor.

"Hey, Artie!" Alfred called up the stairs, cupping his hands around his lips to make himself louder.

"WHAT?" came the reply. His bright blue eyes widened a bit. Was it just him, or did Arthur's voice sound a bit… weird?

"I'm leaving! Just wanted ya to know, is all!" Alfred awaited the Englishman's response, but was met with silence. He just shrugged, wanting to get out of the man's house and to the nearest McDonald's as soon as possible.

"Okay, then, whatever! Later, Artie!" The American walked to the door silently, trying to see if the Englishman would respond this time.

Silence.

Alfred had his hand on the doorknob, ready to turn it, when he looked back one more time.

"Hero OUT!" He screamed, before slamming the door behind him.

-x-x-x-x-

That bloody American twit.

Arthur _hated _him.

But that was just blasphemy.

The Brit sat on his bed, his head deep in his tear-stained pillow. He felt like crap. Bloody heart-broken _crap_.

And it was all that nit's fault.

Arthur couldn't really blame him, though. He didn't do anything wrong, aside from being an idiot. But, he _was_ Alfred. That couldn't be helped. Alfred was just a daft American who had outrageous plans and ate nothing but fatty food.

But then, why did Arthur love him so?

The blonde man turned himself over and laid himself on his back, as if to look at the ceiling, through his closed eyelids. He wiped his own tears away, and then rubbed his eyes.

_He _was the _real _idiot.

_He _was the one who had fallen in love...and said aloud his feelings to have them-_wait._

Arthur's eyes opened when he realized the truth.

_He really was the idiot!_ (Although he would never admit _that_ to anyone.)

_He_ was the one crying in his room! _He_ was the one that was bawling his eyes out, even though… he hadn't even actually _confessed _his feelings! How did he know he had really been rejected, _when there had been nothing to reject?_

The Briton sat up, everything suddenly clear in his mind.

_He was going to tell Alfred he loved him._

_-x-x-x-x-  
_

Alfred opened up his Big Mac, and lifted it up gently, in awe of its beauty. He giggled, and then bit down on his meal, followed by a swig of coke.

'_Mm… this is pretty good, for a British Mickey D's.' _As soon as he had left the Brit's home, Alfred had gone for the nearest McDonald's he could find. Surprisingly, he actually found one! _In England! _

The young American put his burger down and analyzed the restaurant. It seemed pretty normal. Hm… none of the costumers had super-thick caterpillar eyebrows. It was a bit surprising, actually.

Alfred's blue eyes kept roaming until he spotted a pair of kids-well, to be more accurate, young adults, sitting nearby. _'I wonder if they're related?'_ The nation pondered, even though the young male and female looked _nothing_ alike.

The blonde's accusations were struck down when the boy leaned closer to the girl, and promptly put his lips on hers. Okay, Alfred really didn't know much about kissing, but he knew family members didn't do _that _with each other. Or at least, as far as he knew.

After the boy pulled away, he noticed that the girl's cheeks were pink… just like Alfred's were earlier that day! The American kept watching, now immensely interested. He noticed a small hint of red on the boy's cheeks as well. Alfred's eyes narrowed as he watched the boy inch closer and wrap his arms around the girl, enveloping her in his embrace.

Alfred, without another thought, hopped up and loudly shouted what he was thinking.

"THAT'S WHAT _I_ WANT TO DO!"

The young nation's loud remark grabbed the attention of the couple he had been observing, who put their eyes on him. Along with everyone else in the restaurant.

'_Hey! I think I said that out loud!' _ Alfred realized. He, however, just flashed everyone the best heroic smile he had, too many things on his mind to really care about the weird stares people were giving him.

He started humming his favorite tune, and happily walked up to the confused couple. He smiled and sat down at their table, making them even more confused.

He put his clasped hands on the table, and looked at the couple with desperate eyes.

"PLEASE TEACH ME, (THE MOST AWESOME HERO EVER) OF YOUR WAYS!"

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Hope you liked this installment. :D It's hard writing for Arthur...with his British slang... I'm not British! xD But, I hope I did alright with it!

But then again, it's hard writing for Alfred too... and I'm American! Haha, well, I've only known about Hetalia for about a month or so... I'll hopefully get better at it in time, yes? :D

Please review! All reviews are appreciated! :D


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it took so long! It's not even that long of a chapter... I haven't had much opportunities to use the computer. I've only gotten to use it a couple short periods here and there, and so I had to write this chapter bit by bit. It was kinda weird, because I would forget the rest of the story and have to reread everything to keep writing. My memory isn't that good. ^^; Well, I finally got it done! To be honest, I don't like this chapter much... I feel like I made Alfred a bit to dense. But it's too late now, eh? This is my first multi-chapter fic, so I get nervous. xD It's also my first US/UK, and my first Hetalia fanfic overall...

Plus, I've been dying to write a SealandxLatvia fic. I have a lot in mind... I'll just see if I have time to type some of those up! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, and I'm pretty sure I never will. Except maybe in my dreams! :D

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"Eh?" The male brunette was the first to break the awkward silence.

"Please teach me of your ways!" Alfred repeated, now whining. He needed to know the meaning of their "loving" actions. He needed to _why_ they did them. He didn't really get it... It all made him feel kind of clueless. A hero must _never_ be clueless!

"Wh-what do you mean?" the man spoke again. The girl had yet to say anything. She stayed huddled close to the boy, who still had her arms around her.

"I mean _that_!" The bespectacled America pointed at the other man's that were encircling the girl's waist.

"What? Oh you mean that? That is called a hug."

"N-no! I know what hug is! I'm not an idiot! Though Artie does call me one a lot…Well, I think he does. Most of the time, he uses these weird words I don't know." Alfred lost in himself in his thoughts before he remember the point of the conversation.

"No! I mean, like, why do you wrap your arms around her like that?"

The girl finally spoke. "It's because he loves me," she stated, her cheeks burning red. "Or, at least, I hope he does."

Alfred just tilted his head a bit, not quite understanding, as the boy turned to the girl, his own cheeks a bright pink.

"How could you say that, love? I love you with all my heart, I swear, I do!" the boy spoke so quickly Alfred had a little trouble understanding what he was saying with that accent of his.

'_His accent… it's just like Artie's,' _the blonde realized.

'_But on Artie… it's really cute.'_

Alfred suddenly felt his cheeks heating up, making him confused. He was blushing! But… Arthur wasn't even there! He quickly shook his head, trying to shake the warmth from his cheeks. It wasn't working.

The hamburger-loving American rubbed his eyes and looked back up at the couple he had come to for help. His jaw dropped at what he saw.

The people he had come for knowledge had now started _kissing_ in front of him. And it wasn't just the type of kiss he had seen them do earlier; it looked like they were… _eating each others face._

"WHOA!" Alfred shrieked. What the hell? They had started doing those actions that Alfred _needed help understanding! _

"What crappy teachers," he muttered, his face down, not wanting to watch those two- it somehow felt that if he did, it would be invading their privacy. But, then again, if it was private, why would they be kissing in a public restaurant? America sighed, feeling like a complete moron. He just didn't get this whole "love" thing! How could he, anyway? Arthur never even told him anything about it!

Alfred wanted to bang his head against the cold table. He felt so stupid! He was already 19 and still knew nothing whatsoever about this "love"!

"Hey, we're sorry!" the man had finally noticed Alfred's frustration and broke apart from his girlfriend. "But… we can't really help it. We do things like this because we love each other."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "You do things like _that_ because you like each other?"

Both people sitting in front of him nodded.

"Of course," the girl began, "There are some people do kiss and whatnot, but do not love. They just do it because of lust."

"Lust? What's that?" Alfred titled his head to the side innocently.

"Well… it's…" the girl turned to look at her lover for help.

"It is a strong sexual desire." He finished her statement.

"Huh? Oh… I think I might know what that is then…" Alfred was pretty sure he had never felt something like that before, but he had a feeling he knew what it was! Actually, he thought of Francis. Alfred had a feeling _he_ sure knew what lust felt like. Maybe it was because he was always running around naked?

"Wait. But what's the difference between lust and love?"

"Eh…"

x-x-x-x

Arthur paced in his room, his fingers cupping his chin. He had decided he would confess to Alfred, but how would he do it?

He could maybe… cook a delightful dinner (because he _knew_ his cooking was, in Alfred's terms, "awesome"), then they could go see a musical- wait, but which would they do first? Or, what if Alfred didn't enjoy it? If he didn't have a good time, there wouldn't be much of a point, now would there?

Ah...so what should he do?

He could ask for advice... but who would he ask? A certain French blonde came to the Brit's mind. But, no, there was _no way_ Arthur would go to _him. _If he went to Francis, of all people, for love advice, who knew what Arthur would end up doing to Alfred by the end of the night!

_'It's not as if that would necessarily be a bad thing...' _

Arthur quickly shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking like that! He just wanted to confess. Then he'd see how things would go along...

The Englishman thought of every successful couple he knew. He never noticed how many there were... but he could go to one of them for advice! But...which one? The Englishman finally stopped pacing. He could go to all of them... Or...at least half of them, anyway. OK, so _some_ of them. He could get their suggestions and put them all together, so he would have a sure-fire way to confess to Alfred. Or they would have a dreadful night and both leave for their homes unhappy... But...

Arthur wanted them to have a good time. He wanted to see Alfred smile, that same smile that never failed to make the Brit's heart leap, and put a smile on his own face. Then, after the night ended, he would admit his love. That's why he wanted to get it right. The night had to _perfect. _That was the only reason he would actually go to others for help. Not that he really needed it! It was just... advice!

The blonde man sat back on his bed to think. Who would he go to first? The answer suddenly came to his mind. He whipped out his old cellphone, and began dialing. He started tapping his foot as the phone rang.

"Hello~?"

"Ah, yes, hello, Feliciano. I was calling to see if you and Ludwig can help me out- I mean, give me some advice on something?"

"Eh? Oh, sure! How about you come visit us, ve?"

"That sounds like a plan. Tomorrow morning, sometime around 9am?"

"Ve~ That sounds good. I'll make sure to make some yummy pasta!"

"Thanks, I appreciate it. I'll see you tomorrow."

"No problem! Me and Ludwig will be waiting, ve~!"

Arthur smiled and hung up. Feliciano and Ludwig had been together for as long as he could remember. Maybe they would tell him their secret to a successful relationship? The blonde laughed. He shouldn't get his hopes up. It was _Feliciano_ and _Ludwig_, after all.

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Hope you liked it. :D Please review! It encourages me. All reviews are appreciated. ^^

This is kinda off-topic, but...

Has Hetalia made anyone else out there more interested in the World Cup? I actually follow the scores now... I don't have cable or anything, so I can't watch the games, but it's still fun. Since Iggy and Al are both out, I'm cheering for Ludwig! :P And Antonio. And Kiku! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: 'Lo. Ah...my eyes hurt! :D Well, I'm finally done with this chapter...there's about two left, I think...I've outlined the rest of the story, but I'm still not sure how I'll divide it up., which is why I'm not sure how many chapters are left. ^^ This is the longest chapter I've written...yay!I'm not that happy with it... eh, but that's the kind of person I am, unfortunately. **

**Well, I still hope you enjoy this Alfred-centric chapter! **

**P.S. I changed the format a bit, to try to make it easier to read. Also, have I been spelling the word "blond" wrong the whole time? I'm used to "blonde" but, supposedly, it's spelled without the "e." Eh, I"m not sure anymore! I'll just spell it without the "e" from now on...**

**Disclaimer: The only place I own Axis Powers Hetalia is in my dreams. :)  
**

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After spending a couple hours at his favorite restaurant, probing strangers with his questions, Alfred was finally back at his own house. Well, actually, it was Arthur's house. Al had originally planned to stay in England for a while, and he didn't feel like booking a plane back to America, so what was the point in leaving, even if Artie had been acting a little weird?

Al rang the doorbell a couple of times, but heard no movement coming from inside the house. Not that he actually would be able to normally…

The American waited a couple of moments before he started to get worried. What if something had happened to Artie? Alfred quickly retrieved the key from under the doormat and hurriedly opened the door.

"Artie?" he called, roaming the living room he had been napping in not so long ago. All he found were some ancient furniture, pictures of Arthur and his brothers, and the newspaper that the Englishman had left behind a couple hours earlier.

Unable to find the grumpy old Brit in the living room, Alfred hurried to the kitchen. He quickly looked around the room and spotted something unfamiliar on the aged fridge. The blond approached and saw that it was a note. He hastily removed it, anxious to see if it was some sort of ransom letter or something.

_Alfred,_

_I've left to visit Feliciano and Ludwig. I might also visit some other of our acquaintances, so I'm not sure when I'll be back… most likely about a day or two._

_I know you wanted to stay for the whole week, and I'm sorry for leaving you. I feel like an arse. However, I _had_ to leave. _

_I apologize, and you might not understand, but…_

_It really is important._

_-Arthur K._

Alfred just stared blankly at the note in his hands. _What the heck._ He had come all the way from the good O'le US of A just to see the stuffy Brit and he _left_ him?

Al wrinkled up the piece of paper angrily and looked around in search of a trashcan. When he found one, he hurled the small ball of paper in with as much force as he could manage. Alfred then proceeded out of the kitchen when he remembered the last line in the note.

"_It really is important."_

Alfred huffed. What could be more important than him, _the hero? __  
_

The hamburger lover looked back over at the trash can. He walked back to it and picked the note from the top of the trash. He wiped it against his jeans, and unfolded it. He read it over again. This time, instead of rolling it into a ball, he folded the small paper carefully, and put it in his pocket. He then headed upstairs to Arthur's room. Artie would probably get pissed, but hey, it was _his _fault for leaving the American all alone in his house. Plus, Al was tired, and had a lot to think about.

Now on the second floor, Alfred had no trouble finding Arthur's room. He had grown up in that house, after all... The blond's eyes widened when he saw there was another note on the Brit's bedroom door:

_Alfred,_

_You bloody git. Don't even think about entering my room. That would be an invasion of privacy, and possibly trespassing. I would be willing to call the police on you._

_-Arthur K._

Alfred smirked, and removed the note from the door, folding it and inserting it into his pocket. He then entered the man's bedroom anyway. '_Call the police? Pshh.' _He was a_ hero, _how many times had he told Arthur that? Heroes never got arrested! Never, ever, _ever!_

The bespectacled blond plopped himself on Arthur's bed. Alfred sighed, closing his eyes when he felt the soft mattress beneath his back. Since when did Artie have such a comfortable bed?

Alfred's bright blue eyes opened at a sudden crinkly sound beneath him. He rolled over, and where he originally settled down, lay _another_ note.

_Bugger,_

_What did I say about you entering my bedroom? I'll get the police on your bloody arse..._

_Who am I kidding? I knew you would invade my private quarters as soon as you saw I wasn't there. Just don't make a mess. And if I see you've been going through my personal belongings, I'll..._

_I'll tell Ivan _you _were the one who stole his vodka. Because I assure you, it certainly was not me_. _You have no proof._

_-Arthur K._

Once he was finished reading, Alfred burst into laughter. Since when had that grumpy Brit known him so well? And Ivan's vodka? What was that loopy Englishman talking about?

Alfred put his head against the tall frame of Arthur's bed. He folded the note carefully, and slid it into his pocket_, _along with the other two notes Arthur had left him. He chuckled. Arthur had gone through all that trouble to leave him so many notes... But then again, it was the least he could do, after leaving Alfred alone! Said blond lazily moved his head to Arthur's soft pillow. He sighed, taking the scent in. The pillow, the bed, the entire house itself... it smelled just like Arthur. Alfred sniffed the pillow again. He chuckled. Since when did Arthur have a_ scent?_ And... since when had Alfred liked it so much?

'_Artie...' _The American closed his eyes, remembering everything he had learned that day from his visit to McDonald's. At first, he hadn't understood what the couple had been trying to explain to him. He didn't comprehend the whole concept of "love," not the kind you felt with family, but the kind you supposedly felt with someone you like a lot. Now, in the silence of_ Arthur's_ room, on _his_ bed, Alfred felt it was easier to understand. Those feelings he had felt when he had gotten so close to Arthur... that pleasant warmth... and that emptiness and disappointment he felt when he realized Arthur wasn't there... Alfred felt like he finally understood what it all meant.

'_Arthur... I think I just might love you._

_

* * *

_Alfred opened his weary eyes, as a result of the bright morning sun on his sleepy face. He groaned and turned himself over, in order to see what time it was. The clock clearly read _9:05 am. _Personally, Alfred didn't like to wake up anytime earlier than ten in the morning...but he was hungry, dang it!

The blond pulled himself of the bed, careful not to break his glasses that had fallen off his face during the night. Alfred usually took off his glasses before he went to bed, but he had completely forgotten about them last night. His eyes roamed over the blue sheets, in search of something, well, shiny. He leaned closer to get a better look, because without his glasses, the world was just one big blur. He smiled in contentment when he finally found his glasses, hazardously perched near the pillow he had been using. He reached for them and placed them in their rightful place, which was, of course, his (awesome) face. Alfred stretched, ready to make himself some food. Or buy some. Before he headed back downstairs, he hopped over to Arthur's closet. He needed some clothes he could wear without being afraid of messing them up while he cooked his breakfast. Alfred slid the hefty white door open, revealing every article of clothing Arthur owned. The blond went through the clothing carefully, to see if anything would fit him. He was out of luck. All he was able to find were sweater vests and dress pants that were too small. Alfred was about to close the the closet again, when something caught his eye.

It was a box. A really big box. Just a plain, big, black box. Alfred took the box out of the closet, assuming it just held a bunch of Arthur's shoes. He sat down on the floor, crossing his legs and placing the box on his lap. He slid off the lid, and took a peek inside.

Alfred couldn't believe it.

Inside the box, there were photos. Dozens, even hundreds of photos! _And they were all of Alfred himself. _Alfred picked a random photo, a candid shot of him sleeping. '_When was this taken?' _He flipped it over, and found that there was something written on the back...

_'Alfred looks so cute when he's sleeping. I'm lucky I was able to find a camera, because this picture always seems to warm my heart... :)_

_ ...I'll never tell him that.'_

Alfred blushed. Arthur thought he was cute? Wait, that wasn't a justified reason for him to take pictures of a sleeping person!

The American picked another photo from the box. It was another candid shot of himself, but this time it was taken in a restaurant. Alfred was eating a hamburger, his cheeks stuffed, looking out the window. After looking at it more closely, Alfred could tell the photo had been taken at McDonald's, when Arthur had gone to America to on a business trip, a couple months ago. As soon as Arthur had arrived at his doorstep, Alfred had dragged him to the nearest McDonald's, since he was hungry. Alfred flipped it over, and read the back:

_' Alfred, eating one of his loved hamburgers. I managed to take this while he was distracted with a mime outside...  
_

_I can't believe I crossed the pond just to see him. Well, at least he thinks I was there for a business trip. I don't like lying to him, but I had to see him! I... I missed him too much. Dammit, I'm becoming a bloody romantic.'_

Alfred's eyes widened. That time when Arthur had stayed in America for two weeks because he was on a business trip... it was a lie? Arthur had just wanted to see _him_...Alfred's face reddened, but he continued looking through the box of photos. In most of them, Alfred didn't know he was being photographed. However, there were some photos where he was posing and smiling for the camera. And there were a few where he was with Arthur. Alfred picked one of him and Arthur having arguing, which they did a lot. He at it closely. Arthur's cheeks were pink while he screamed and pointed at Alfred accusingly. Alfred, on the other hand, was just laughing. Alfred flipped this picture over, curious to see what the Brit had written.

_'Francis took this picture, that frog. Well, at least I now know what I look like when I'm fighting with Alfred...  
_

_Why do Alfred and I argue so much? I...I don't really like it. I've always been afraid that one day he'll just hate me._

_...He doesn't already hate me, does he?'_

Alfred's mouth opened in surprise. He could _never_ hate Artie! He just liked to mess with him, that was all! Alfred placed the photo back in the box. He let his hand wander inside, ready to pick another random picture. His hand stopped when he felt something cold...and leathery. The American took the object out, anxious as to what it might be. It was a... book. The cover was a dark brown, as was the back. Alfred unhooked it open, ignoring the small tinge of guilt he felt at looking through Arthur's private things. Alfred began reading the first page and smirked. It was a diary!

_'Dear...journal?_

_Um, well, yes, ah, I don't really know what to write... but no, this is not a diary! It's a journal. I was bored, and I heard that starting a journal would be a good solution. It was either this, or make my own website. I am absolutely clueless when it comes with technology, so I went with the journal idea. _

_Well, I guess I should write about my day, then. I have to admit, today was a bit dull. Ever since Alfred returned to his home... it just hasn't been the same. It gets lonely around here without his presence. He's always smiling...I like that about him. He's a very cheerful person. He does get annoying sometimes, but that's just part of the Alfred I've come to love, I guess._

_...I DIDN'T MEAN THAT! I** DO NOT** LOVE ALFRED! I-I DON'T! I mean, I have to admit , he is handsome, and he can actually be quite adorable when he's eating those hamburgers, and whenever I look at him, I blush, and I feel all warm inside, but, wait-NO! I do not love Alfred! _

_...He's such a cheeky chappy. _

_...Dammit. I've fallen hard.'_

Alfred dropped the book. No...no way!_ No way! _Arthur...Arthur loved him? Alfred picked up the book again, ready to look for more proof that the Englishman really _did_ love him. He opened to a random page and started reading.

_'Dear journal,_

_I can't believe I'm still writing in this. It's been a while since I bought this journal, and it's not even near close to running out of pages..._

_Well, today was a good day, to say the least. Alfred called. He has a meeting here in England, so he'll be here for the whole next week. I'm...I'm excited. I haven't seen him in so long, and I...I just want to see his smiling face again. Ack, journal, I'm lucky you can't see my face right now... It's completely red, I just now it is. Ever since I first realized I love Alfred, I've started blushing a lot more. Every time I see him, my face reddens. Every time he gets near me, I feel so good inside. I really am excited that I'll be able to see him soon, but... I just hope I don't lose my self-control and..._

_...That frog is getting to me. I would finish my thought above, journal, but I don't want to turn this into some XXX-thing... Ahem.'_

The book slid from Alfred's hands once again. He stared at the journal sprawled on the floor blankly. Then, it clicked.

"Arthur loves me!" Alfred jumped off the ground and pumped a fist in the air. "He _loves_ me! He loves _me_! _He loves me!" _Before he even realized his actions, Alfred found himself doing the moon walk. The blond blushed, glad no one was there to witness his outburst. Shrugging it off, Alfred bent down and picked up the Brit's journal. He smiled at it, and then placed it back in the box. He lidded the box again, and returned it to its place in Arthur's closet. He slid the door closed, then exited the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. He hummed as he made his way to the kitchen, hungrier and happier than he had been before.

_

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_**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. :D Anonymous reviews are on, by the way, so please review! Well, you don't _have_ to, but it would be nice if I knew what your opinions are... Liked it? Disliked it? Feel free to tell me~! :D**_  
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